Why Them?
by Seamagik
Summary: I couldn't help watching them, even though it was painful. Wondering... Why them? Why not me? Drabblefic. M/A and S/A Angst.
1. Watching

A/N: Drabble fic. My Muse kicked on while I was working on Castaway and headbutted me into doing her bidding. Stupid Muse. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

Watching

* * *

It was downtime at Crash. Everyone had gathered to celebrate another holiday together, to celebrate another year of life. The mood was happy and unabashadly relaxed.

But then Alec had shown up and everything was ruined.

Her warm brown eyes had fixated on him as soon as he'd stepped through the door. The words they flung at each other had been vile enough, like they usually were, but tonight, something was different. There was an undertone of warmth that hadn't been there before. Maybe it was the New Year, another chance at life, an oppurtunity to right old wrongs.

I wondered what had changed between them. And then I shot the thoughts down, because it was too painful. But, like they had always been, my eyes were rebellious and kept creeping towards them, watching them interact.

It was strange watching them together. It was surreal; mind-bending, almost dreamlike.

Her bone straight hair, sliding through his long fingers. The hooded quality of his hazel eyes as he smiled into her bright chocolate gaze. It was obvious that he wanted her. It was obvious she was half in love with him.

It was just… wrong.

Her full lips lifted as she jerked her head towards the exit. Anyone who was looking at them knew what she was saying. _Let's get out of here._

I watched them, the ease with which they communicated, they way they spoke volumes without saying a word. And the jealousy that came with it was to be expected.

Why couldn't we have ever had that kind of relationship? Why couldn't we have figured everything out? Why had she ended up with _him_?

Alec glanced over at me, his eyes bright. He gave me a kind of half shrug. "Sorry, you know how it is. When a lady demands, a gentleman must concede."

She had sighed, popping him upside the head with an ease that came naturally. He didn't duck out the way; pretended to look wounded as she cuffed him. His pout turned into a lascivious grin when her fingers didn't move away, but stayed in his hair, swooping down to caress the back of his neck. I watched in slowly dawning horror as their eyes locked in fiery passion. But then he caught my gaze, pulling away from her in embarrasment when he realized I was still staring.

His arm fell across her shoulders and he offered a half hearted wave to the occupants of the table. Her arm wrapped around his narrow waist and they moved as one towards the exit.

"Must be hard, watching them together." A voice filtered across the table. I barely acknowledged it, a soft noise in the back of my throat my only response.

"Max, are you listening?" My head snapped towards Logan, who was grinning at me. "I said it must be weird, seeing him leave with Sam."

I rolled my eyes. "In more ways than one. I thought they hated each other. Ever since she came back from Canada and that mean spirited Ordinary, all they've ever done is gripe at each other." I sunk low over the table, nursing my beer. I muttered darkly into the froth. "Didn't know stupidity was inherent in my genes."

Logan must not have heard me, continuing on, despite how I desperately wished he'd shut up, "Well, you and Sam are pretty similar. So it's no surprise that they fought like cats and dogs when she first got here. Guess they finally worked through all that."

Yeah, maybe fighting came naturally when mine and Alec's DNA was involved. But the understanding came easy, too. And I could never tell Logan this, but the gentle affection and unrepentant lust in Sam's eyes when she looked at Alec were mirrored in my own soul.

The bitterness was all my own, though. The two transgenics were nearly at the door now. She whispered something in his ear and he'd laughed. Well, growled, really. And threw her over his shoulder to the catcalls of transgenics and ordinaries alike. Sam's face flushed in desire and she offered our table a cheeky, excited grin as Alec carried her out into the night air.

Is that how I would look... if that was me?

...Am I even capable of that kind of happiness anymore?

Logan was right. It was hard seeing them together. Not only because, in a way, she was sort of _me_. Mostly because, at the end of the day, she _wasn't_ me.

* * *

A/N: Stupid Muse. I fed your needs, now let me work on Castaway. :) Loved it, hated it? Loved it AND hated it? Review!

Hmmm, maybe I will expand on this when I am done with Castaway. My Muse is still talking. :S


	2. Wishing

Why Them?

Part Deux

* * *

_Wishing_

* * *

I put on her jacket, first. That's how this whole thing got started. I put on her jacket and it fit perfectly. Of course it did. Why wouldn't it. Really, it was remarkably similar to mine. The only difference was the smell. Can't lie to a transgenic's nose, and this jacket was all hers.

My hand trailed across her dresser, caressed the little trinkets and the earrings that she hardly wore anyway. I slipped a pair of hoops into my- I mean, her pocket, before striding out the door, her jacket emboldening me in ways that my own never did.

I just… Just for a day, I… I wanted to be _her_. Didn't want to be _me_.

Which is maybe why I ended up on his doorstep in her earrings, in her jacket, smelling of her.

"And which one are you?" He leaned out the door, teasing gently. It was a game they played. Because Logan hadn't been able to tell the difference, but Alec usually could. Not always, but usually.

I rolled my eyes. "Duh, which one do you think?" I plowed my way into his apartment.

"Well, some days you two act so similar-"

"Can we not talk about her, please." I didn't want to know what he'd say about me when I wasn't around. I wondered why I cared. It's not like we were friends… well… not really, anyway.

"Getting on your nerves again, huh?" He asked, shutting the door gently. Good thing his back was to me, or he would've immediately noticed the way I stiffened. She… she didn't like me or something? "So, what brings you to la Casa de Alec on this fine day in which you _should_ be working?" He dropped into the couch, pulling a bag of chips from the floor.

"The usual…" I eyed him, lounging indolently on the couch, and I felt something stir within me. Something I hadn't felt in a very long time. Something I never thought I'd feel again without the benefit of Heat.

"Yeah, well, I'm too tired for a booty call," He snarked. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but I found myself desperately wishing to know whether or not he was. I asked myself, again, why I cared what they did together. I couldn't come up with any answer but the obvious, so instead I sank on to the couch next to him.

"You wearin' new perfume?" He eyed me suspiciously.

Can't show fear. He's a transgenic, and a canny one at that, and he'll notice. "Eau de Sewer. Sector cops were out in force, so I had to make the trek underground to get here."

His suspicion fell into disgust and he recoiled. "God, you couldn't go take a shower first?"

"Are you offering yours?" I snarked back.

"You know where the towels are," He turned back to the TV. I was halfway to the door when he turned to face me. "Not the blue one. You know it's my favorite."

My stomach twisted in disgust and I wondered how she knew that it was his favorite.

I left the jacket in a chair by the door, because I didn't want the steam of the shower to wash away her smell. I lathered myself in his soap. By the time I'd gotten out, I smelled of him and I smelled of her and I didn't smell of me and I wondered why it felt so freeing.

Maybe that's why I sank next to him on the couch and let my head fall on his shoulder. He stared at me for a moment, I could feel his eyes burning into my scalp, before he'd shifted, almost in annoyance (probably because of my wet hair), and let his arm fall across my shoulders. I burrowed into his side and for the first time in a long time I felt… safe.

I took it too far, though.

His lips were soft under mine, but his hips were all the right kinds of hard. I grasped at his face, pulling him closer, wondering if he minded that he couldn't see the TV when I was straddling him, but then shook away the ridiculous thought and went back to all those right kinds of wrong things that I no way in hell should be doing.

"Max," He gasped, his hips arching into mine. And I couldn't help that I stiffened.

"No," His fiery eyes would ice at my reaction, and my name would escape those soft lips as a hard accusation. "_Sam._"

I pulled away from his mouth, straightening Max's jacket on my frame. "Took you long enough."

"What the hell are you doing?" His jaw was clenched in frustration and I was shocked that I still kind of wanted to caress it.

"I was bored." I lifted myself from his lap, crossed the room to lounge against his breakfast bar.

"Bored." His eyes were dark, borderline dead. "And you thought, oh, I'll just dress up like my twin and pay my good buddy Alec a visit."

I ignored the question, frowning. "Does Logan know that you n' Max are all hot and heavy?"

"We're not," He growled. "And that's how I knew you weren't her."

"Oh," _Good to know_, I thought to myself. Then something occurred to me. He'd said her name. So he hadn't thought I was me. Not at first. "Does _Max_ know that you _want_ to be all hot and heavy?"

"Me n' Max," He stopped, sighing, heaving a hand through his hair. "We're complicated… we're just friends."

I shot him a look. "Friends aren't complicated."

"Everything is complicated when it's about Max... Besides, she n' I... Well, we're more friendly than you and I are, usually." Well... he did have a point there. We did fight a lot. But still.

"Please," I scoffed, unwilling to agree with him out loud. "Max treats you like dirt on a good day. At least I don't call you names and then ask you for a favor."

"No, you just call me names, crash my apartment, and try to have your way with me," There was something there, now. Something like amusement. Like he was recognizing a bit of himself within a bit of me.

I crossed back to him and sank back into his couch, frowning, my spirits depressing back to what they were before I'd put on my twin's jacket and knocked on his door. "What is it about her?" I asked, sighing.

"I… I don't know." There was something soft and wistful in his voice and it made me glance at him. He schooled his face into a lascivious grin. "Let's talk about you… and how you want to make out with me-"

"Can it, school boy. There won't be any repeats." I took the remote from the coffee table. Flipped the channels. Very carefully _did not_ look at him. "I... I wasn't really bored. I just… wanted to be her for a bit."

I guess he knew a little something about wanting to escape reality, because I could feel his gaze gentle on the side of my face. "If you wanted to be Max, I'm not the guy you should have gone to…"

"Not so sure about that." I muttered. He glanced questioningly at me. I amended smoothly. "I mean, the way you keep doing her bidding, I thought for sure you must be getting some kind of under the table benefits." I grinned. Hoping he hadn't noticed my slip. Hoping I wouldn't give him hope.

I… I didn't want him to hope for Max.

We tried to watch the movie for a while, but it was awkward and stilted. My fault, I knew.

As I was leaving, my hand would catch his shirt. "You're too good for her, Alec."

"You weren't around at the beginning," He frowned. "There's reasons why Max treats me the way she does."

"People change," I insisted.

"Not Max," He'd chuckled wryly, but I could tell it was also kind of a sore point with him. "And what about you, huh? You haven't exactly been friendly since you came back from Canada."

"Well, neither have you," I shot back.

He sighed, again shoving his hand through his hair. "How… how about a truce then?"

"Truce," I rolled the word around my mouth. "Yeah, yeah I can do that."

"There's a New Year's Party at Crash this weekend." He offered. "Maybe you should stop by."

"Max doesn't like it when I hang out." I scowled.

"That's not true." He protested.

"Then how come she never invites me?"

"You're kind of a bitch," Alec snarked. Then he grinned. "And with Max, it's all about subterfuge… you gotta worm your way into her life when she's not looking. Then, before you know it, she'll be calling you names and demanding you go with her on secret missions."

"Ass," I punched him lightly.

"Bitch," He retaliated, grinning.

"Thanks for the invite," I shrugged. "Maybe… maybe I'll see you this weekend."

He pursed his lips at the hope and the loneliness in my voice, and again I think he was reminded a bit of himself. "Yeah, maybe."

I was halfway don't the hall when he leaned out the door and called after me, "Max gets off work in five minutes. And that's her favorite jacket."

I heard the door slam over the sound of my swearing, but didn't have time to call him a name, because I was too busy booking it down the hallway.

* * *

A/N: Outside of your comfort zone? I know, mine too. And yet, despite the few 'yuck' reactions I get (and even more telling... the overwhelming silence and the sound of crickets chirping...) I'm still strangely fascinated by it... Ah well... We'll wait and see what my muse comes up with next time.


	3. Wanting

A/N: Dude… this is like… a trip down the rabbit hole or something. Me is scared!

Fair warning: Main purpose of this fic was to use my Jedi mind-powers on you lot.

* * *

_Wanting_

* * *

"How does it feel," I had asked my reflection days ago. "How does it feel to want to be me?"

My reflection had stared back for a long, hard moment. And then she'd shrugged, and even though she was my mirror, I could not read past her surface. "I don't know, you tell me."

Which of us was more real in that moment? I couldn't tell.

Our relationship had never been friendly. It was too late to hope for more, because the tentative understanding that we'd built had buckled and broken under the weight of Alec's addition. My fault, I knew. I was scared that she would take him from me and I'd turn into a snarling mess whenever I saw her. My fault…

Even more so because of what I would do.

Part of me wondered if she was right. Did I want to be her? Had I just wanted to escape what my life had become and saw hers and just sort of latched on? Maybe I'd never been able to tell which of us was more real, and that's how this whole conversation had come about.

"Why Alec?" My reflection no longer mirrored me. Her pain was too great. "You could have anyone you wanted. Why Alec?"

I paused… staring at her for a long time. And then I swallowed, glancing away. "He gets me."

I didn't want to deal with her pain. I had my own to contend with.

And of course there was Alec, noticeably absent from this meeting, probably avoiding the fall out, probably dealing with his own torn emotions… and yet still, there he was between us… But what could you do? It was a tricky situation.

I kind of wished Ben were alive so I could foist him off on Sam. The thought left me horrified so I pretended like I'd never thought it, spiraling back into my memories instead.

When the suppressant had worn off and my Heat had come, I'd instinctively known that no one would be able to scratch the itch quite like him. 'Paired based upon genetic compatibility.' he'd told me a long, long time ago. So, in a way, he was always supposed to be _mine_.

But how does that work when Manticore made two of me? Junk DNA makes no difference when it comes time to create viable offspring, so Alec's instincts certainly didn't have a preference. And if the man, did…

I'd sort of hoped, when I knocked on his door, that he wouldn't answer. That he would answer. That he'd think I was her. That he'd know I was me… Hell, I didn't know what I wanted when I showed up on Alec's doorstep, dumping hormones, shifting in discomfort. Just knew that I needed him, hard and fast and now… And he'd been all those things, once the pheromones had captured him for me. He'd known every inch of my body before he'd seen it and he'd hit every spot that would make me beg.

The realization made me cry that much harder once I was satiated and had realized what I'd done. He'd reached towards my heaving shoulders, but I'd ripped away, scrambling out of bed.

Sam was sitting on the couch now, her head buried in her hands. "I hate you," She whispered.

I know. I hated me, too.

We both perked as we heard his voice in the corridor. "Where is she?"

Logan's disgusted voice would follow, "Which one?"

Alec's silence burned into us both.

Logan would stick his head around the door, saying unnecessarily, "Alec's out here." His gaze softened as he looked at me and it was full of 'not your faults' and 'I love you anyways' and I wanted those looks to mean the world to me and they didn't. I just wanted Alec to walk through that door and I wanted to know whose name would fall from his lips.

Moment of truth.

Destroyed, when Sam glanced up at me. "You have your fairy tale." Sam said softly, and it hurt me to hear my voice begging like that. "Let me have mine."

And Logan was still there, his blue eyes trying to capture mine. Could I do it? Could I crush two people twice in one day?

My world crumbled.

I didn't know whose name he would have said when he swept in the door, because I was too busy sweeping by him, too busy not listening to Sam walk to him and cling to him and say his name.

Cindy would just purse her lips hours later as I was a mess upon the couch.

"It was the heat," I said miserably.

"Please," She shook her head in disgust. "You don't care what kind of brotha you get undercover when estrus bitch comes to town. A million men in Seattle and you ignored 'em all to get to Alec."

I stared at some invisible speck on my jeans. If there had been a mark there, it probably would have been one of shame.

"We both know you got more than that stuck up your craw. It was more than the heat, and you know it. You saw the great big pie of happiness that Alec was giving to Sam and you wanted yo'self a piece."

"Cindy-"

Cindy's hard voice cut straight through all my bullshit. "Do you want Alec, Max? Really want him? Or do you just want what Sam has?"

"I… I don't know." Was that pathetic little voice… was that really me? Surely not. But it must have been, because Sam wasn't here. Sam was with Alec. This was just me. Just me, alone.

Cindy sighed, so I guess she could tell how confused I really was. If she'd thought I'd merely been trying to usurp Sam's life, she wouldn't have let me off so easily. "Maybe that's something you should be thinking about in the next four months." She stood, fixing me with one more steady glare. "Before you slip out of yo handcuffs, evade ya sistah, and end up on Hot Boy's doorstep again." O.C. was still a little bit sore about the whole thing, I could tell.

I started laughing. It was borderline hysterical, I know… but I had an image of us living our perfect, routine little lives, avoiding each other, slipping away every four months to deal with biology. My laughter died.

He'd told me he loved me.

I hadn't said anything, because I'd been too busy running through the room, snatching my clothes from the places they'd been thrown, wishing that he'd stop looking at me. And then, I'd be glad I hadn't said anything.

Because he'd look away, bury his face into his hands in shame, and he'd whisper in a voice meant for his ears alone that he loved _her_, too.

If I could go back in time, I'd change my wish. I'd wish that he'd never stopped looking at me.


	4. Wailing

Why Them?

Chapter 4

A/N: Good news! This one is less like a trip down the rabbit hole and more of a great big mind fuck! Yay! Don't hurt me! Go read Yawn after this. You'll feel better.

* * *

Wailing

* * *

He wasn't speaking to her.

That might have made me happy… but he wasn't speaking to me, either. He avoided the both of us. He ran at the first hint of long, dark hair; at the slight smell of motor oil or of guns, of that hint of something underneath that he recognized and, it pains me to say, did not want.

Or, maybe… Maybe it wasn't that that he didn't want us. Maybe it was just that he didn't want the _both_ of us. Not very efficient to have two lovers, especially when you actually love them; too complicated, too messy. Alec, for all his joking, and wise-cracking, and lazy loafing, and woman-loving ways, was a military man at heart. He liked his life simple. He liked his beer, and he liked his bike, and sometimes he liked his gun, but he loved his women… so long as they weren't complicated.

Complicated equals mess. Mess equals confusion. Confusion equals pain, especially when love is added. Alec had done the math and he hadn't liked what'd been summed up. So he subtracted the offending items, and I was one of the two left on the wayside. I could have hated him if I hadn't known his history with that damning emotion. If my own experiences hadn't taught me to be equally wary of that little thing called love.

A blonde, the latest in a string of females trying to capture his attention, sat next to him, chatting flirtatiously, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he wasn't paying her much attention. She kept shifting, maybe because he hadn't turned and acted grateful for her presence. I liked to think it was because she could feel my glare boring into her back. Two glares, actually, 'cuz there my twin was at the opposite end of the pool table, eyes narrowed, looking in the same direction.

Huh.

Is that how I look when I glare? No wonder everyone gets out of my way when I'm angry.

My twin must have felt my eyes, because she turned and our gazes met.

I wanted to hate her. But I couldn't. Not right now. It's amazing what time and weariness will take from you. Passion was dead and I just couldn't work up the energy. Besides, if nothing else, at least she hadn't gotten him, either. At least we were both alone. I recognized that the thought was a little sick, but…

She grunted as she sunk on to the stool, joining me at that round table near the pool tables.

"How's the beer?" She asked.

"Lousy," But I refilled her empty water glass with my pitcher, anyway.

She glanced at the bar, at broad shoulders and a ducked head and a blonde that was moving away in a huff. "View's not too good, either." A small smile, self-deprecating, from her, because we'd both been staring at the man and we both knew it. I ignored the comment and the laugh, because that's one of the ways that she and I differ. I'd never own up to staring at Alec.

I hadn't chosen this spot because it gave me the perfect vantage point for me to watch Alec... I chose it because it was the perfect spot so that _he_ wouldn't see _me_.

I had been watching him, though. It's not that I was stalking him. (and believe me, I'd smack the crap out of the first person who suggested it), it's just that… I really, honestly didn't want to him to see me. 'Cuz if he didn't see me, then he couldn't pretend he _hadn't_ seen me, and then I wouldn't be hurt by the fact that he was ignoring me on purpose. But unfortunately for me, my eyes were traitorous; they kept moving to his hunched back, to his lean forearm, swirling his glass, to his hard stare straight at the rows and rows of bottles on the shelves behind the bar that it was apparently his mission to empty.

Part of me wanted to laugh. Part of me wanted to grab him and shake him and maybe smack him around a bit, too.

See, Alec? Pretend all you want during the day. Laugh and joke and run away just as fast as you can. But the truth comes out at night. It's been a month since my heat, and it still hurts, doesn't it? Even without us, it hurts. Probably hurts even worse, now that you're alone. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Why'd you push us both away? Don't you _want_ to be happy? You could have stayed with Sam. I'm not a weakling. I would have gotten over it eventually. But… the fact that you left her... Fuck you for giving me just enough hope to make it all so painful.

Here's to you, Alec, I raised my glass in a toast at his back. You suck.

My twin arched an eyebrow, her chin resting in her palm, fingers curling over her top lip, as I drained my glass.

"Where's Logan?" She asked around her hand, studying me.

"Dunno." I grunted.

"Heard you dumped him," She said, letting her hand drop so she could pick up her glass and swirl it moodily. Command was full of gossips, but the problem with gossip is it's usually only half true.

"I didn't." I just… hadn't seen him a while… that's all. I'd try to keep things going with him after my heat… After he'd cornered me in my office and told me it didn't matter, that he still loved me, that it hadn't been _me_. Maybe the guilt had finally caught up with me two weeks ago; maybe that's why I started avoiding his sometimes demanding presence. Maybe it was because, even if Logan didn't know the truth, I still did. I'd been the one to seek Alec out. I'd been the one to push my way into his apartment, and slam him against the door, and run my hand up his thigh-

Sam's voice interrupted my thoughts, "Listen, Max, there's something I've-"

"Hey," A guy was smiling at us, blocking the view of the bar.

"Beat it," We said simultaneously and he gaped for a moment before he slunk off, back to his friends who were laughing at his expense.

Alec had stood and was… No, he wasn't leaving. Just headed to the bathroom. Guess he hadn't had his fill of hard alcohol for the night.

Then I cursed my eyes again. Stop looking at him, dammit.

That guy was back, Jesus, what did he-

"Before you tell me to get lost," The guy was frowning, and oh, great, he'd brought a friend, "Can I just say we have something in common?"

Sam and I shared a glance, steeling ourselves for a cheesy pick-up line. And that's when I got a good look at the guy's friend. Not friend. Brother. Twin. Identical twin.

"Just one game of pool," The man's brother wheedled, but with just enough charm that it wasn't obnoxious.

"No," I frowned.

"Yes," Sam said. I glared at her, but she just stared back challengingly. She seemed calm, more relaxed than she had been in weeks. I shrugged. It wouldn't hurt anything.

The brothers were charming as they set up the game of pool. Funny as they proclaimed over their own ineptitude and "being beaten by girls". So we played another set with them. One was just a hair taller than the other. One's eyes were just a shade darker. One was a bit more tan. Even identical twins aren't completely identical. Not the mirror images that Sam and I were. They mentioned it, halfway through the second set, told us their mom had ways of telling them apart, but that our mother probably would have trouble with us. What could we say back to that?

We didn't say anything. Just shared a glance. Connected. We didn't laugh, but we did smile. Differences or no, it was amusing that someone thought we were sisters, that we had a past. And when we looked back, we looked past, and fell into hazel eyes, glaring from across the room.

Yes, Alec, there is life after you. Look. We're happy. We don't need you.

_I_ don't need you.

All lies, but I wished they were true and that Alec believed them and that he suffered and no, I didn't want him to suffer, I just wanted him to choose me, dammit, just for a moment, so my life could get back on track. It'd been a month, why did I still want him; maybe if he chose me, I could stop wanting him and I could get back to liking Logan, but that doesn't make any sense, why is everything always so confusing.

I'd liked those twin brothers… not like that, but they were a nice distraction… but for the first time since Alec had started avoiding us, for the first time in the month he'd been drowning his sorrows at Crash, he took a woman home with him. And I hated those twin brothers, but not as much as I hated him. Passion makes a comeback.

He stifled a yawn during the command meeting the following morning and I threw a stapler at him. Maybe it was a little over the top, but…

Everyone chalked it up to me being… well, me. But when he righted himself from his duck, he stared at me, like he knew.

So I threw a punch at him when everyone else was gone.

And when I was writhing underneath him, the bare concrete cool through my thin shirt, when I was moaning into his mouth as he fought with the fly of my jeans; I wished I'd thrown that stapler straight enough to actually hit him. Wished I'd put enough power in my punch for it to actually hurt. Wished that I knew who he was thinking of when my faded sneakers got tossed across the room and he ripped off my pants. Me… or her? Or maybe he didn't care, as long as it was one of us. Maybe if she'd thrown a punch at him, she'd be the one that he was trying to get naked.

Something changed in the air, and he recognized it and rather than backing down and backing away, his mouth became more demanding, like he was trying to swallow the protests he knew were coming.

I could have kneed him, but I was terrified if it wasn't me, he'd go to her.

Screw that. I'm no sappy-eyed heroine. I shoved him off, scowling.

He stared hard at me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as he pulled back into a crouch.

"Did you sleep with her?" I demanded, sitting up.

He blinked in confusion. It took a moment for his eyes to clear, and his forearms to rest against his knees, and for him to level me with a stare as he realized I was talking about the blonde he'd walked out of the bar with last night, and not Sam.

"Yes," He said simply.

"Good for you," I hissed and gathered up my pants. "Hope she was good."

His eyes narrowed. "She was."

When I made to spring at him, pants forgotten in anger, he countered with a hard shove of his own and pressed me back down into the ground, his body trapping mine, and I pretended like every fiber of my being wasn't aware that his hips were between my legs, with only a thin layer of cotton to protect me from the feel of him.

"C'mon, Max," He pinned my arms overhead, his fingers biting in to my wrists. "Tell me how you don't care what I did last night."

"I don't," I scowled up at him.

His hazel eyes gleamed in amusement. "Even you've got to realize how ridiculous-"

I started struggling. "I don't care! I don't care about her (and at this point I didn't know if I was talking about Sam or the blonde) and I don't give a damn about you!"

He froze and I wanted to take it back. He released my still form and pulled away and I wish I'd never shoved him off in the first place because his absence was almost painful.

"Well," He chuckled, low. "Thanks for clearing that up. Looks like I've wasted an entire month for nothing."

I sniffed in annoyance, 'cuz it was easier than sniffing in hurt. "Hope she was worth it,"

He stood slowly and I sat back up just as slow. I didn't stand. Just sat there under his harsh gaze. "Yeah, Max. Yeah, she was worth it. 'Cuz for a moment, I actually forgot what you taste like."

Max Guevera does not cry.

Sometimes I didn't want to be Max Guevera.

Especially when the door opened.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I realized how it must look. Alec, towering over me, angry. Me on the floor, sans pants, fighting back tears, bruises developing on my wrists.

I don't think any one of the three of us was expecting it when Alec turned around in time to met Logan's fist with his face.

It was just… surreal.

Alec could have just taken it. I'd seen him take a punch before. Hell, he'd taken some of my punches before, merely letting the force of the blow crack his head to the side. Guess he was more wound up than he'd let on, because he came back with a shove that sent Logan toppling over one of the conference room chairs. And when Logan picked himself back up, glaring, fight still in him, Alec stalked towards the older man and I knew…

"You could hurt him!" I pulled at Alec's arm, trying to stall his progress, and ignored Logan's start of betrayal.

"No, Max," Alec shrugged me off, his eyes still caught in narrowed blue as he cracked his neck from side to side. "Logan wants to play with the big boys, don'cha Logan?"

Alec's lunge was stopped short by my grab. He was whipped around, but he ducked out of the way of my blow, using the momentum I'd started to fall to a crouch and use a sweeping kick to knock my legs out from under me. I crashed to the floor and had to stare at the ceiling in confusion for a moment; enough time for Alec to restart his advance on the older man. When I glanced up, I caught the expression of Logan's face. I don't think Logan had counted on Alec being angry enough to fight back… either that or he'd been having the brain fart of a century. Either way, his face descended into wariness as Alec came back to him. Like he knew maybe he shouldn't have hit a transgenic, but couldn't find it within himself to back down.

"Y'know, Logan," Alec said conversationally, stopping only a few feet away from the blonde man. "It's probably not a good idea to go around hitting people that are younger, stronger, and better than you are."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Younger and stronger? Yeah, maybe. But better? I don't think so."

I could practically feel the corner of Alec's mouth lifting, his back tensing, as he readied himself to make a smart ass retort, when Logan's voice filled the room and Alec fell still.

"I don't hurt women," Logan pointed out, glancing pointedly at me, still sitting on the ground, watching the whole thing like some kind of moronic, wide-eyed spectator. Alec glanced back at me over his shoulder and grimaced.

Alec wouldn't feel bad for dropping me to the ground. It wasn't the first time, and given our dynamic, it probably wouldn't be the last. And it probably would have annoyed me if he had felt bad, 'cuz I'm not some pretty princess that needs to be treated like porcelain. And in some sick kind of way, I'd probably miss our fighting if it ever ended.

No, maybe Logan had meant hurt in a purely physical context, but Alec took it on a whole 'nother level. Something deeper. A level that he… actually didn't want to hurt me on?

"Alec," I breathed.

Logan started, again. Alec looked away from me. Maybe… Maybe he really had meant it, all those weeks ago… Maybe that's why he'd left Sam. Maybe… Maybe what he felt for me was something greater than-

Alec doesn't knock, not when it's my office he's barging in to. And maybe his face had been solemn when he'd stepped through the threshold, but when he saw who I was with, his face twisted in anger. Before he forcibly calmed himself, and all expression slipped beneath the drowning ripples of neutrality.

Logan glanced up. I didn't, but only because I'd turned to watch him as soon as the door had opened. He looked… The same. I mentally snorted. Why would he look different? It'd only been a few days since our show down in the conference room. A few days since I had stood slowly and he'd rushed out of there, unable to face his own emotions. A few days since I'd tried to patch things up with Logan, 'cuz everything with Alec was too messy and I couldn't take it anymore and Logan was easier and safer and-

Alec's eyes immediately zeroed in on my hand, caught in a latex grasp.

"Aww, you two are so cute," Alec made a face. Logan stiffened and I wondered what the hell Alec was thinkin', saying something like that when everything was so weird between all of us. From the shadows under his eyes, I guess he was just too tired to care, right now.

"Did you need something?" I asked.

From Alec's slow smirk and Logan's glance, I knew my tone must have come out bitchier than I'd intended. Either that or I'd shaken free of Logan's grasp a little bit harder than necessary.

"Just stopped by so you could offer me congratulations," Alec's smile was hard now as he leaned back into his heels, hands dipping in to his pockets.

"What do you mean?" Logan asked. Alec's eyes didn't leave mine, though, and slow dread coiled in my gut.

No, no, no, no, god no.

"Sam's pregnant."

Fuck. Christ. God. No amount of mental preparation could have saved me from the shock and my heart went to the pit of my stomach as my face went white and my body went cold.

Mine. Supposed to be mine. (My hand had shaken as I'd reached out to take the morning after pill Logan had insisted upon... had called ahead for... Sam, Sam, why are we so different?)

"Well… congratulations," Logan said grudgingly. He'd never completely released the hatred that my heat had spawned, not even now that he'd won. Maybe especially not now that Sam had handed him his victory.

"Get out," I snarled, and Logan's head whipped back to me, and then towards Alec, but Alec wasn't moving, and it took Logan a moment to realize I'd been talking to him.

"Max," Logan frowned.

"Get out!"

Logan stomped angrily out of the room, and only I was left. Just me, left with the man that should have been mine. Alec. I've never hated anyone as passionately as I hated Sam at that moment. That night at the bar… she'd known. Her calmness. She'd won… she'd won, and she'd known. And I hated him, too, as he stalked across the room and yanked me from my chair. As much as I hated myself as his lips crashed over mine and I held on to him, nails scraping at his back, like this could actually fix anything. Like the desk at my back and his body moving desperately over mine could actually solve our problems.

It was angry, rough, and biting, and pushing, and pulling, but as his eyes connected with mine, just for a moment, it was probably the most tender thing I've ever experienced. It was a goodbye, but it couldn't be a goodbye, because as his lips moved to my throat and my legs wrapped tighter around him, I knew I'd never be able to let him go. It was wrong, because he was hers, she'd won by default, and it was right, because he'd always be mine. It was my name on his lips. My name raised in a desperate prayer and a throaty curse.

Mine.


	5. Waking

* * *

_Waking_

_

* * *

-  
_

They taught me how to hate.

Funny, isn't it? After everything I've lived through, everything I've seen, I didn't really and truly know that damning emotion until they introduced us. And now… now, hatred and I, we were constant companions.

Oh, I hated him. And I hated her.

And on days that I was being completely honest, I think that maybe I hated me too.

Some days I wanted to grab them and shake them: Look what you've reduced me to. Is there anything left of me, but the hatred? How could you _do_ this to me?

In the darkest part of my heart, I knew that they had taken something from me. My self-worth, maybe. My belief that everything works out in the end. End? I wanted to laugh. What end? Ends were for games and for fairy tales, products of make-believe but not of real life. No, real life was never ending. It was an impartial judge, oblivious to the point of cruelty, trudging along and passing me by when all I wanted to do was scream, "Stop! _Look_ at me! How can the world keep turning when I _hurt_ so badly?"

No, the only end in life was death and on the days that were really bad, I wondered what was taking it so long.

Days like today were the worst, because on days like today, I had to pretend.

The bed creaked as a body shifted. I didn't have to, but I turned to look anyway.

"Where are you going?"

"Out,"

I glance out the window; nothing but grey skies, creeping up on dusk, storm clouds, rolling over the city, and a light drizzle that washed everything in misery.

"Stay in bed. It's raining." Master of the obvious, that's me.

"I don't mind the rain." Feet hit the floor. I'm faced with a naked back. I'm tempted to reach out and touch and caress… I don't.

What a sad state humans will let themselves be reduced to. Clinging to something long after its death. Refusing to let go. I could let go. I collapse back into the bed and stare hard at the ceiling.

I didn't mean to say it. To open myself up to that kind of vulnerability. "Stay." And in the word, a thousand meanings. Stay with me. Be with me. Don't go where I know you're going. Come back to the way it was, the way it should be. Don't leave me.

Eyes flick back towards me before a shirt is pulled overhead. "I've got to go to work."

Maybe it was the casual dismissal of all my unspoken pleas. Maybe I didn't feel like pretending anymore. Whatever it was, the snort was entirely unexpected. By the both of us. "Right." I sat up, swinging my feet off the opposite side of the bed. We both stand and turn and look at each other.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Have I ever seen tenderness in those eyes? Have I ever heard softness from those lips? Have I ever felt warmth in that gaze? Surely I must have… But for the life of me I can't remember it and I'm stuck in the bleak hell that is my present, that I'm too much of a coward to escape from.

"The sun is going down."

"So?"

Don't pretend with me.

Maybe she saw something in my eyes. Maybe my snort had set us down the wrong path. Whatever it was, her gaze hardened. "In case you forgot, Logan, shark DNA… _Remember_?"

Wasn't the cure supposed to fix everything?

"It's hard to forget," I replied mildly. "I mean, after all, I so rarely wake up to you these days." She stiffened. It's probably the closet thing to an outright accusation that I will ever get.

Its funny how that in getting what you want, you realize that you know nothing. Least of all what it is that you want. I'd thought I wanted her. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I'd wanted who she was before she met him.

The cure was a gift from Alec. And what a double edged sword it had turned out to be. He'd waited until we were together, alone in her office, before he sprung it on us. His eyes had never left Max, but that was nothing new because I can't recall a time when he _wasn't _looking at her, waiting on her. Some people might say that there was a time in which Alec could care less about Max, but I don't know that I believe that. Max, though... For all of Alec's looking, Max hadn't always looked back. She was that day. I knew because I'd stared in surprise at the man, at the gift outstretched in his hand… and with a burgeoning sense of hope, I'd turned to look at Max… and Max had been looking at Alec, her face full of stark, stricken betrayal. It wasn't the first time that I noted that things were no longer as they should be, but it was one of the greatest and most glaring examples.

I had stopped by his place to thank him. Maybe more than that. Maybe I was questioning his motives and I wanted to know why the hell he'd done what he'd done. But I'd had to pause outside the door, still hanging open, only recently barged through.

"Why?"

I had known it wasn't Sam. Sam hadn't sounded broken in weeks. Not since she'd won. Not since she'd handed me my meaningless, empty victory.

"I told you, just trying to help out a friend-"

"Stop bullshitting me, and tell me why, Alec!"

The pause had been long. And finally the honesty came. "I want you to be happy." And maybe he had wanted to be happy too, and by giving her, them, the cure, everyone could move on. Everyone could ride off into their respective sunsets, sure that destiny had finally been fulfilled, that everything was at it should be. Max could finally be with Logan. Alec could bury his nameless emotions within Sam. And all the messiness would cease to be.

"I _need _you to be happy, Max."

She'd made a sound, some wretched, choking thing, and I was sure that she was crying. And I think maybe I heard her whisper, "I don't know how." I couldn't tell over the sound of his boots, scuffing across the wooden floor. I didn't have to look into his apartment to know that he was holding her; there are some things a man can just feel.

I don't think they slept together that day. But it didn't matter, because the betrayal, a betrayal of emotion and feelings, was so much worse than one of pure physicality would have been. Her Heat, I could forgive her… maybe not him, but I could forgive her. I couldn't forgive her love though. And if it wasn't love, it was something dangerously close. Nor could I forgive her the increasing frequency with which I woke up alone, wondering where she was, knowing in the depths of my soul that she had left to be with him. Why then, was she still here with me? Was she so confused, so unsure? Or was there just something stopping her from really and truly being with Alec.

We were still staring at each other over the rumpled sheets of an empty bed.

"You'll never win against her, Max."

There was something in her eyes, just for a moment. Nameless rage. A sea of hopelessness. Before her face hardened.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She finished dressing quickly, her unsteady, jerking movements a testament to her anger. I watched, full of quiet introspection. And just as she was about done, drawing the laces of her last boot tight, it fell from my lips.

"She's having his child."

The room was so still. I could hear the sharp intake of breath through her nostrils, like it hurt her to breathe. Like maybe she didn't know how. Then she spun on her heel, leaving my cold bedroom, and what choice did I have but to follow her, to cling to the nothingness that we had become.

I wish Sam had never come here. I wished her husband had never left her. I wished she was still somewhere in Canada, happy and blissful and far away from Max. None of this would have happened if it weren't for her. Or at least, that's what I like to tell myself. I tell myself that if Sam hadn't looked first, Max never would have noticed him. I tell myself that if Sam hadn't wanted a taste, Max never would have touched him. I tell myself that if Sam had never loved Alec, Max would still love me. I tell myself a lot of things.

She whirled on me before reaching her jacket, still thrown over the kitchen island, and she opens her mouth, but snaps it back shut. Whatever words she were going to fling got swallowed up in her pride, or she thought better of them, and she picks up her jacket and grabs for her keys.

Maybe she wanted to end it and didn't know how.

"I have to go to work. I don't have time for this."

I'm tired of pretending. Of walking through what our relationship has become with my eyes wide shut. I want to wake up.

"What do you have time for, Max? Because lately it sure as hell hasn't been me."

It's no longer grey outside. It's black. The drizzle has been replaced by a downpour. The trickle of truth I hadn't meant to start was turning into a torrent that I didn't know how to stop.

Maybe I was just tired.

"What do you _want_ from me, Logan?" It sounded every bit as tired and weary and lost and hopeless as I felt…

"I just…"

"_What_?"

"I just want you to be happy."

It was a lie. I didn't want her to be happy. I wanted her to be happy _with me_. If she wasn't with me, I wanted her miserable. I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. I wanted her to feel like the world was fragmenting beneath her feet. Nobody really wants the person they love to be happy without them… Nobody but Alec, apparently… But what a crock that was, because Alec had her more surely than I did, so he could afford to say things like that. Once more, I was merely going through the motions.

She doesn't say anything. Maybe she doesn't know what to say.

"You're not happy with me, Max."

"So what are you saying," She made a face. "You want to end it?"

That's not what I'd been trying to say at all. I had merely been pointing out the obvious, as if maybe, somehow, it would turn a light bulb on over her head, illuminate what our lives had become, wake her up, make her see, and maybe, just maybe, things would go back to the way they were before, the way they were supposed to be. I stared at her for a long moment, unsure of what I wanted. She stared back, and in the face of my silence, her chin firmed and lifted, and her shoulders squared, and her face strengthened and she said something I had never expected.

"Fine."

Two years of missed chances and 'almost's and something that I had thought was destiny... and it ended with a 'fine.' I never heard the front door close. Everything was going in slow motion. All I was able to hear was the sound of my blood, roaring in my ears, and the piercing silence echoing in my head. All I could feel was my face, still frozen in disbelief, my heart slowing and stopping, and my eyes closing against the truth. _Fine_. I had wanted to wake up, to know that it was all a dream. I didn't know that upon waking, I would find that I was all alone and reality was worse than the dream.

Oh, I hated her. And I hated him. But on the days that I was being honest, I hated me the most.

Today was a day for honesty.


	6. Walking

_Walking_

* * *

"Run away with me."

I knew it wasn't the first time he'd heard those words pass through full lips. She'd said it to him once after a brutal skirmish on T.C.'s borders. Command may be getting larger, but it was still incredibly small when transgenic hearing was added to the mix. And I couldn't help that when I saw them together, my ears unconsciously strained, ready to pick up any word that might pass between them. So I'd heard it easily enough, even from across the room.

She'd meant it as joke, she'd said it fairly sarcastically after all, but they'd both paused after the words had tumbled out. I'd paused too, stopping what I was doing as my heart had stuttered and stumbled. _No_. My eyes had burned into them from across the room, but he hadn't noticed. He'd stared at her long and hard as he'd tried to gauge her seriousness. A little frown had marred his forehead. She'd swallowed. In the end they'd pretended like she hadn't said anything at all, going back to the maps on the table, marking which buildings were burnt beyond repair. I'd shakily gone back to my work. I glanced up only once more and he was looking at me, but I gave no sign that I'd heard what had passed between them, waving him over to get his help with my own task. I pretended that I didn't see him glance at her before coming over to me. I pretended that I didn't see her shoulders tense. I pretended that I didn't know her own ears would be listening just as closely as mine had been.

"Run away with me."

So, really, it was the second time he'd heard that plea. I was no more sure if I was serious than she had been. If I had wanted to be honest I could have told myself, yes, in a small way, I was completely serious. I didn't want to be honest. I hadn't been honest in weeks and I wasn't about to start now. So I said it almost exactly the same way she had, soft and sarcastic, with a hint of bitterness at a future that wasn't anything but uncertain.

He pretended that my tones had been lighthearted. That I'd made a joke. That we weren't so broken.

"Oh," He smiled. "And where would we go, hmm?"

"Desert island?" I responded loftily. "Maybe an abandoned cabin or an empty valley? Anywhere's gotta be better than here."

He'd chuckled like I'd made a great joke and went back to what he'd been doing.

I couldn't help that I immediately began comparing the reaction he'd had with her to the one he'd had with me. What did it mean? Did it mean anything that when she'd said it, he'd paused and frowned at her? Did he only joke this time because he'd heard it before and this time he was prepared? If I'd asked first, what would he have said? Would he have said nothing, trying to gauge my seriousness in dark contemplation, or would he have responded exactly as he just had: with a joke, trying to pretend it all away.

_Stop comparing yourself to her_. It wasn't the first time my mind had hissed it. Wouldn't be the last, either. _Stop comparing 'Us' to 'Them'_. _Just _stop.

I couldn't stop though. She was me and she was not me. She was my mirror, if in a distorted way; we were both fractured and broken. Same genetics, different environments... Or, well, mostly same genetics. Which is maybe why she cornered me. She knew my body better than even he did because she lived in it every single day. The weeks kept ticking by and my body was still her fractured, broken mirror. She recognized the utter lack of change and she wasn't capable of letting the lie live.

"I should kick your ass so hard, you land back in Canada where you belong." Max had said it conversationally enough, but her eyes had been so hard they could have cut diamonds. I was tempted to agree with her, but I had resigned myself to this conversation months ago, some time after the night I'd found her drinking alone at Crash, the night she'd been trying so hard not to look at Alec's hunched back. It was during the time Alec had left me, left us. What Max hadn't known at the time, what I _had_ known, was that Alec didn't spend every night drinking away his sorrow at the old bar. Most nights he was out hunting. Hunting for the cure, hoping for an end. That night we'd seen him take that stupid, vapid blonde home, I'd almost been tempted to tell her. To gloat. To let her know that if gossip was right, Alec had almost found the cure to all our problems, and soon Max would be getting her fairy tale ending and getting the hell out of mine.

Fractured fairy tale, I suppose, because she'd gotten her cure and had rewarded herself by leaving the man she'd claimed to love for so long. Or maybe Logan had left her. I didn't know and I didn't want to know. I didn't want to connect to her or feel sorry for her. I wanted her to be the Bad Guy.

So instead of agreeing, I asked her, "What are you talking about?" Because the Good Guy, or Girl, in this case, isn't guilty. The Good Guy doesn't lie, and doesn't cheat, and gets the girl anyway. Or boy, in this case. Man. Alec.

She wasn't playing though, fixing me with a hard stare. "Give it another month and Alec will know just as well as we do how _not_ pregnant you are."

I knew that. I'd known that one day it would have to come out. Still, hearing it out loud made me go cold.

There was no helping it though. I had panicked. The time for my Heat had come and gone and _nothing_. And I'd thought... I mean...

So I'd gone to him, thinking I was pregnant, hoping for some comfort. I wanted Alec, I did. But a kid? _Now_?

If stories were true, after I'd gone to him for comfort, he'd gone to her. I didn't believe the stories. Or at least, I didn't want to.

And then it hadn't mattered, because Max had taken the cure easily enough, had started spending half her nights with Logan. Alec had started spending all of his nights with me. He was tender and playful and passionate and sort of like the best friend I'd never had. It seemed like everything had finally sorted itself all out... Until Max had left Logan. Or Logan had left Max. Alec's playful tenderness couldn't hide the fact that as soon as it was over, as soon as Max had moved her belongings solidly back into T.C., his eyes had lost some of their warmth. I could feel myself losing him to uncertainty all over again.

Shortly thereafter, I had realized the truth, had realized that my body was not changing, that whatever was delaying my Heat was not the child I had at once so feared and so desired. How could I tell him, though? I had the sinking sensation that if I told him now, with Max so unattached, that would be the end of us. So I hadn't broken it to him. One week had become two, and then a month, and I suddenly found myself trapped in an unintentional lie of omission. He was beginning to suspect, I think. Sometimes I woke up and Alec wasn't with me. A million times my mouth opened to tell him the truth, but I was stuck so solidly in quagmire, I wasn't sure how to pull myself out.

My brown eyes searched hers for a long moment. _Would you tell him, if you were me_?

She could have challenged me right then. She could have spat at my hesitation and told me that she was going to tell Alec herself...

But she wouldn't and we both knew it.

She was giving me a final chance to do it myself, before Alec figured it out on his own. For all her rough and gruff, there was always something a little noble in her. It always surprised me to see it, because I always tried so hard to find her faults, find the cracks that weren't mirrored in me.

I was going to tell him. I was.

But my body decided to do the telling for me.

A few months delayed, my Heat finally came and it came in a big way. I woke up sweaty and hungry and _alone_. Alec was gone and my cat yowled and railed at this betrayal, at his absence on a night that I needed him so badly. The human in me fought desperately for control; do not go out there! But I had to find him. Had to have him. Had to make sure he wasn't with _her_.

I walked through T.C. anxiously. No, not walked. Trotted maybe. Almost jogged. He wasn't in Command and I wanted to howl at the setback. Wanted to tear into something. Mole glanced up and saw me and his eyes narrowed, his mouth opening a little in surprise. The phone was dialed and halfway to the side of his head before I even turned and stalked out, hardly even registering that there was a man at my elbow, cajoling and charming. I ignored him for the better part of a block, eyes darting everywhere for Alec. Some eyes connected to mine in hunger, but I looked away quickly. The man was still at my side, still saying something and he was an annoyance and I wanted him to go away, he wasn't who I wanted. I turned to tell him so, but his grin was a little like Alec's, lopsided and roguish and it pulled all the breath from me. There the similarities ended: he was blonde and blue-eyed and lean and he was still talking, even though I didn't understand what he was saying. His hand came up, squeezed the side of my neck almost possessively and the human that was along for the ride wanted to weep, even as the cat started to smile in response to his obvious proposition.

Then the blonde was being ripped away, and Alec was punching him hard enough in the face that even through the haze I could hear Max shouting at Alec to '_stop_!' He did stop, but only so he could look at me. The anger was melting away, and there was that lopsided smile, the one I'd really been looking for. It didn't disguise what I'd seen behind the smile. The flash of betrayal, the obvious disappointment, the tightness around his eyes. He knew now, and there was no going back. He lifted me and the kiss he gave me was a punishment, hard and angry, but the cat didn't care. The cat was just happy to have him there. I think I may have heard Max make a sound, something a little choked, but I couldn't be sure, because Alec was taking me back to my home and I was really only capable of focusing on him.

Nothing about Heat is tender. Estrus demands satisfaction, not love. I had hoped, one day, that when it was over we could turn and look at each other and laugh at the lightly fading bite marks and scratches. When it _was_ finally all over, when I woke up on the other side of the hormones, the room was dark and he was already wide awake. There was no laughing. He was staring at me in the darkness, silent and solemn. I got up, grabbing at my clothing, and left the room because I didn't want him to see me cry. I dressed myself carefully, slowly, wishing my hands weren't shaking in the darkness. My designation is 453, I told myself. I am a transgenic and an X-5, and I cry for no one, not anymore.

But I was a liar and I was still crying when he couldn't take it any longer, when he came out of the bedroom to find me sitting on the ground below the bar. The keys were above my head, floating in darkness somewhere up there on worn wood. I'd made it this far but couldn't bring myself to take the last few steps. It felt like my whole world was stuttering and stopping and for once it wasn't all my fault.

He was frustrated and he was hurting and for all his anger, he didn't want me hurt either. I could tell be the way he carefully kept his distance and kept his voice so level. "How long have you known?" He asked, his fist clenching white-knuckled in his restraint. "Or was it all a lie from the beginning?"

He hadn't yet realized that last night had changed us in more ways than he knew. He didn't know that I wasn't just crying because my lie of omission had finally been found out. So he was surprised when my arms tightened further around my body, my fingers clenching into my leather jacket, I looked up at him, and I glared at him through the tears.

It wasn't a question. It wasn't even an accusation. It was just a statement of fact.

"You tasted like her."

He took a small step backwards, his fist relaxing just for a moment. Alec does not do theatrics, you have to gauge him by the small movements, the barest concessions. In the scheme of things, that small step was more like a stagger, and it was the closest thing I would probably ever get to an admission. I knew he would be honest if I asked him outright. But I wasn't going to. My own sin was terrible, keeping the truth from him. But how many nights had I woken up alone. How many times on those lonely nights had I wondered if he was with her. How many times had I reassured myself that even if he was with her, it wasn't like that.

How many time had I lied to myself?

He'd always been hers. Even before he'd been mine, he'd been hers. For a moment, in a flash of near hysteria, I wondered if that's why I'd wanted him so badly. I thought we had something in common. I thought we got each other. God, was I such an idiot? Had I just wanted what she'd had? Then another thought occurred to me... maybe he hadn't been with her, maybe the taste of her, of me, already on his lips, maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe I was desperate, hoping that I wasn't the only culpable party in this soap opera that had become our lives. I guess I'd never know for sure, because he didn't say anything and I didn't ask.

The tears were slowing now. My strength was returning. I didn't stand yet, but I would, soon.

"She came to me less than a week ago, telling me I had to come clean." I laughed, just a short laugh, quick and bitter. "I thought she was being noble, trying to give me a chance to sort everything out." I glanced at him once more, frozen in the doorway of what had once been our bedroom. I shrugged. My eyes were dry now, even if the skin below them was still damp. My designation is 453, I reminded myself. I am a transgenic and an X-5 and _I never ran_. I was trained to live and hunt on my own. I was trained to kill and I was trained to die. I know what it is to be alone and I am not afraid.

So I kept my eyes on his, fearless, as I said, "Now I realize she wasn't being noble. She was just guilty and she needed a way out, a way to put the blame for what you two were doing on someone else." That was steel in my voice and this was who I really am.

I didn't say the rest out loud: Maybe it hadn't just been guilt. Maybe it'd actually been a mixture of both. Maybe Max had been feeling guilty and noble at the same time, maybe she hadn't known what she'd been feeling when she'd cornered me, beyond some vague kind of need to protect Alec. In that moment, I felt like I knew her better than anyone else in the world. And I knew there was only one way this could end. We couldn't both have him. There was no room for two of us. Broken, fractured, we were never meant to be in the same room, never meant to reflect off one another. I stood then, the steel in my voice steeling my spine. I waited for him to defend her or to defend himself. I waited for something. Anything.

I waited for him to tell me he loved me.

I crushed that small thought.

My designation is 453. I am a transgenic and an X-5. My designation is only one number off from hers, but I am _not_ her.

My name is Sam, and I never ran, but I am not afraid to walk away.

So I did. And I didn't look back, not once, not even when he finally said my name.


End file.
